Hope
by Marauder-In-Disguise
Summary: Linked to the series one episode 'The Eye Of The Needle.' Tuvok doesn't approve of how the crew are allowing themselves to get overexcited and he makes a sad discovery...


I do understand Ensign Kim's enthusiasm, even if I do not condone it. I would even go as far to say that I understand the excitement from Miss Torres or Lieutenant Paris. They are relatively young and inexperienced. I do not, on the other hand, approve of the way that Captain Janeway is allowing herself to be prematurely excited about the tiny wormhole that Ensign Kim has discovered. She is a veteran Starfleet officer, one who has seen many disappointments and should know better. I believe that Commander Chakotay is of the same opinion as me; he has been watching the captain with a look of increasing worry all morning. In the meeting room, I even go so far as to mention this to the captain but she brushes aside my warning. Humans can be incredibly irrational creatures. It makes no sense to me.

***

It was when we beamed across the first cylinder that I knew something was wrong. Doctor Talek looked at our technology with the eyes of someone unused to such things as our sophisticated transporter. He was on a science ship; he should have known all there was to know about the latest technology. And my suspicions were confirmed when he first arrived in the transporter room. He couldn't have named half of the new technology in the room. I scanned him quietly, although Commander Chakotay noticed what I was doing. He watched, hardly seeming to be breathing. My eyes flickered to his as I nodded and reported my sad discovery to the captain and the other senior officers. Their reactions were as I expected; Ensign Kim turned away from the group and ran his hands through his hair. The captain was speechless for a moment. I had tried to warn them, but they did not listen. They would have to suffer the pains of allowing their imaginations to get ahead of them. I had done all I could.

***

We are sending the Romulan back to his ship in little under an hour. The crew is busy preparing personal messages to be sent with him and passed on in twenty years time. I have already finished and filed my message; mine includes none of the sentiment that I know most will and is therefore short and to the point.

_My wife,_

_I am contacting you from the Delta Quadrant; I cannot relay the entire story but know that I am alive and well.__ At our present speed, it will take us 75 years to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. We are looking for a faster way but there is no guarantee of anything other than the fact that we are trying. I do not know when we will speak again. I hope that you are well and that the children are working hard at school. _

_Live long and prosper,_

_Your husband,_

_Tuvok_

As I have finished, I am alone on the bridge with little to do. I decide that I can find out what will become of the Romulan in the future. In the vast database on Voyager, we have data on many Alpha Quadrant races which we could have use for in the middle of a mission. One of these is a list of staff at the Romulan Academy. I scroll through the list, looking for Doctor Talek. He is not on the list of active staff. That is strange. I search the records and eventually find his name.

On a list of the deceased.

He was killed in the line of duty, four years before we left Earth. I thought that he was a scientist. There is a report attached to his name. Races frequently share information that may be useful to others and it would appear that Starfleet was informed of the nature of his death. I read the report carefully. Doctor Talek, and his crew, was killed in an accident. It would appear that a vast measure of electromagnetic energy flooded their ship and destroyed all their equipment. The crew was trapped in the blast and the fire that followed. It seems that Starfleet came across the wreckage and salvaged what they could from the blast to send back to the Romulans. The reason that this accident had a report of any kind was that amongst the wreck was a data chip. This chip was a Starfleet prototype design. At that point in time, there were only three examples of this chip and all were being worked on at the Academy in San Francisco. When they tried to read it, they discovered that the electromagnetic energy had wiped the memory. No one had any idea how it got on a Romulan science ship, not even the Romulans themselves.

I know how it got there.

It was ours.

***

Commander Chakotay hands the data chip over to Doctor Talek. I can see the eyes of the people in the transporter room follow the chip as he puts in his pocket and takes his place on the transporter. As he disappears and Miss Torres balances the beam so that he arrives safely on his ship, the rest of the senior officers look to one another for comfort and support. Before they can allow themselves to become anymore excited, I tell them that I have discovered Doctor Talek died four years before our mission began. Their reactions are as I would expect. But then Miss Torres suggests that someone could have delivered the chip for him, and the others immediately become more animated. I open my mouth to tell them the rest of my discovery but before I can, I catch Commander Chakotay's eye. I hold his gaze for a second and incline my head an inch. He knows what I am about to say, or at least the general idea of it. In return, he shakes his head, indicating Ensign Kim with his eyes. The young man is looking defeated, Miss Torres trying to cheer him up. I found out today that he is only twenty two years old, barely out of childhood. Even young Vulcans are allowed to dream sometimes. And then there is the captain. I still think that her decision to become emotionally involved in the project led to how she feels right now but then I don't think that I can deliver the news that will crush her further. She looks so defeated, stood in the middle of the room, and she looks smaller than I have ever noticed before. I change my mind and agree with Miss Torres, acknowledging the possibility that Doctor Talek may have passed on the task. I will not reveal the full extent of his death; perhaps it is more important to allow them to hope (unfounded as it may be) that, somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant, their messages are getting through. I know a little of human hope. For many, it is a great comfort.

Out here, it is necessary for their very survival.


End file.
